Hey, Little Songbird

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I got

Ophelia stayed at his Adrian's house for the rest of the day.

"Are you going home," Adrian asked.

She shook her head. "Do you have something I can wear?"

He licked his lips. "No."

"I can't go to work in just your shirt can I?" she asked.

"No," he denied her instantly. "Here, go buy yourself something to wear—"

"Can we go together? I don't feel comfortable driving your expensive car."

He glanced down at her attire. He walked toward her, buttoning the shirt up quietly.

"You can't walk around with my shirt unbuttoned," he explained. "I'm taller than you, so it's not that bad length wise, but it hangs very low."

"I know it does, Mr. Hades."

He paused, glancing up at her. "Do you now?"

She nodded. "That's why I wore it that way. Did you like it?"

He sighed, continuing to button it. "Even so, it's very inappropriate. I'll go get you something to wear. Tell me your size."

"I'm a medium in women's. If you would buy a dress, it would simplify it," she smiled. Watching his strong hands do such a tedious task was very attractive.

"I'm curious as to what you'll get for me, Mr. Hades!"

"Any requests?" He murmured, fixing her collar.

"Whatever you want to see me in Mr. Hades."

"Call me Adrian," he looked down at her. "I'll be back. There's no particular restrictions. Feel free to roam."

He grabbed his keys.

"Adrian?"

He paused. "Yes?"

"Are you going to put a shirt on?"

He looked down. He sighed, walking back toward her.

"What a mess. Here," he started unbuttoning this shirt. She watched him but didn't protest. "I'll just borrow this one, since you don't want to wear it correctly anyway."

"I'd think you would be a neat freak, the way you're always talking about what's appropriate."

He smiled, glancing up. "I am." He slid the shirt off her body, putting it on his own.

He buttoned it up, keeping his eyes on hers, her almost bare body not seeming to entice him.

"But you seem to be an exception to any rule I've made, Ophelia. Why do you think that is?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He quirked a brow. She stood before him with nothing but her bra and underwear. Did she feel uncomfortable?

It didn't seem like it.

"You can get another shirt from my room. I'm giving my permission this time," he said pointedly.

"I might." She shrugged. "But I feel more comfortable like this. And I want to wear that shirt after you wear it."

He shook his head. "You really just say whatever you want don't you?"

"You told me the things I don't say, are very important," she said gently. "So I'm saying them."

"I didn't mean everything," he chuckled.

She shivered.

He decided not to comment. "A dress. Size medium in women's?" He confirmed.

She nodded. "I'll wear whatever you bring back. I look forward to your picks."

• • •

Adrian drove to the nearest store. He wondered if it was normal for her to stay in his house, with nothing on.

Nothing on.

He sighed. "Damn it,"

He was lacking his normal restraint. He was very good at self-control.

Usually.

He sighed, walking into the boutique.

She was more seductive than she realized. Hell, she was more seductive than he'd realized.

Big brown eyes, that always matched her words. That greediness was so cute. She was adorable, just saying anything like that. He always wanted to touch her cheeks, when she said something like that.

I just wanted to, so I did.

It was dangerous yes, but very refreshing. Everyone had ulterior motives, good or bad.

"What can I help you with sir?"

He glanced up.

"I'm looking for a dress for my...girlfriend. She's a medium."

Like her. The saleswoman. She probably didn't have any ill will. But she naturally wanted to make a sale.

That would influence they way she would act, but she wouldn't say that.

Ophelia would.

I just want you to buy something, so I can get paid.

He chuckled.

"Is there something she likes or is looking for?"

"I'm not sure. She told me to pick something."

The saleswoman smiled. He knew what that meant. She said, "Let me help you."

What that smile meant was, I get commission. You don't look like you know what you're doing. I'm going to try to sell you as much as possible.

He understood that. You couldn't say everything. You shouldn't. That's what being an adult meant. That's what life was like.

Somethings no matter how true, you just don't say. It's not palpable.

But Ophelia didn't care about that.

"How's this?"

He tried to imagine it on her. "She has smaller breasts, but a larger backside. She's tall, so I don't think that'll cover very much."

The saleswoman blinked. "Okay. How covered would you like her to be?"

"Just appropriate."

"Appropriate?"

"It's for work. Her chest should be covered. And her dress should be about to thigh length." He explained.

"Alright, what about this?"

He stared at it. "No. I don't like it. I'll look on my own, thank you."

"Let me know if you need any help."

He went along the aisle, checking different clothing that caught his eyes.

Then he saw it. It wasn't...technically appropriate according to the standards he'd set for the Canaries to wear.

But he wanted to see her in it. He wanted to her wear it, while she sang on the stage, with her eyes on his.

He picked it up.

It was a black dress, simple, but a little provocative. A slit ran all the way up her thigh. The cut of the dress was very low, dipping between the valley of her breast. It was long sleeve, and slim fitting.

"Do you have pearls?" He asked, looking at the dress.

"We do. A necklace?"

"And earrings," he said, imagining them dangling against her slender neck.

No it wasn't exactly for work. But it was what he wanted her to wear.

• • •

He got back to the house. She was there in the living room, still in her underwear laying over his chair yelling at the TV.

"I'm back," he announced.

She stood up. "Welcome back Adrian! You were gone forever! I got bored!"

"Yes well, time got away from me."

"Can I see?"

"N-no. No. Just wear it tomorrow."

"It looks awfully long. Didn't you say Canaries shouldn't wear long dresses—"

"You must've seen that wrong," he hurried past that, starting to take his shirt off.

"Now you shouldn't make a habit of staying at my house even though we're friends," he rambled, stripping his shirt.

"I want to see the dress," she peaked behind him.

"No," he handed her the shirt he'd taken off. "It's a surprise."

She put the shirt to her nose, holding it.

He blushed looking away. "You shouldn't do things that that. It's very—"

"Inappropriate?" She finished. Putting his shirt on. "I know sir. You've said. It's still warm. You smell good."

He turned around, ears flaming. "Thank you. Are you hungry yet?"

"No, I want to sleep. I'm tired."

He refused to look at her. "Just sleep in the room you slept in last night then."

"Thanks Mr. Hades."

He sighed as she left the room. He glanced at the dress and accessories he'd bought her.

"What am I going to do? This is all very inappropriate."

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